


A Moment

by SimpleSpider



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Office, Bad Flirting, Deaf Clint Barton, Dorks in Love, M/M, Meet-Cute, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter is 24 Wade is 40, Precious Peter Parker, Rating May Change, Trans Peter Parker, Wade Wilson Being an Idiot, probably slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-01-23 01:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18539725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimpleSpider/pseuds/SimpleSpider
Summary: 'A moment is all it takes to make a decision. Life can completely change because of a single moment. Minor actions can take on greater meanings or they can bring bigger consequences.'Wade Wilson is a 40-year-old divorced dad and, according to his best friend, having a midlife crisis which he's not. His struggling is normal. His kid's suddenly a teenager, his doctor won't leave his meds alone, and the CEOs new assistant is half his age and the sexiest thing he's ever seen.  Totally not a midlife crisis.On Hiatus





	1. Sowing the seed

**Author's Note:**

> Yo!  
> Welcome to the office AU no one but me asked for!  
> This isn't really a chapter, more of an opening i wrote in a few hours to see if I wanted to do this. And I do :D
> 
> Peter is 24, Wade is 40 if that squicks you out be warned, but please enjoy

A moment is all it takes to make a decision. Life can completely change because of a single moment. Minor actions can take on greater meanings or they can bring bigger consequences. Every action has an equal  _ or greater _ reaction. Sometimes those reactions are easy to see, others are less obvious. They take time, unfolding and digging in slowly making the world wait to see if it’s a flower or a weed. 

Wade Wilson is currently sitting in his car trying to exist within one of those moments. The engine is off with the key in the ignition. Both of his hands loosely grip the bottom of the steering wheel. 

There’s nothing stopping him from turning his car back on and driving home. He could just quit his job and no one could say anything. His lips tighten as he thinks.

He slides his hand up the curve of the wheel, gliding over the smooth leather, hesitating before lightly grabbing the key. The rounded edges press into his palm. Time spins more slowly in the vacuum seal of his car. It’s safe, a bubble of protection from consequences, bills, and stress.

The shrill beeping of a car alarm breaks the hold. Wade sighs and rips the key from it’s home. He opens the door with a shove, kicking it shut behind him. Stupid car, making him think. Shoving his keys in his pocket, he straightens the loose tie around his neck.

“Wow, that took way less time than normal.” Clint grins over his travel mug. The blond disaster, as Wade lovingly refers to him, leans against his bike watching like a creep as usual. “Are you that excited to get back to work?”

“Gotta stain on your chest, Barton.” Wade hums and starts towards the elevator. He hears Clint’s sad but resigned whine followed by steps.

They walk together, Wade struggling to get his tie tied and Clint half-heartedly trying to rub the coffee stain out of his shirt with a dry napkin. Both men are so focused they ride up to the front entrance in silence.

Clint groans loudly at the arriving beep and shoves the napkin deep into his pocket, mumbling something about the shirt ‘being new’. 

“How was your vacation?” He asks, looking down at the stain. “Did you and Ellie go hiking?”

“Don’t sound too happy for me now.” Wade rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless as they walk into the bustling entryway. He gives up on the tie, wanting to focus on gushing. “It was amazing! We spent a week out in the woods, just us, and it was great! My kid is so smart, she was just this fountain of knowledge dropping facts left and right.” 

Bucky gives them a wave as they pass and hits a button next to him, not looking away from his monitor. The elevator doors behind him slide open. 

“You were right by the way.” Wade sighs as they walk into the red plush box. He presses the button for the top floor.

“‘Bout what? The midlife crisis thing?”

“I’m not old enough to have a midlife crisis. No, that she wanted to talk alone.” Wade says as the doors start to slide shut. 

“You _do_ _have_ a teenager, not a spring chicken anymore.”

“She was telling me-” Wade continues, choosing to ignore that reminder. 

“Hold the elevator, please!” Someone yells. 

The doors quickly slam back open before Wade or Clint can react. A mop of fluffy brown hair carrying a giant stack of binders and folders rushes in.

“Thank you Mr. Barnes!” The binders calls.

Bucky chuckles and responds with a low, “have a good day,” as the doors slide closed.

Wade’s jaw drops and he spins to give Clint an accusatory look. Bucky doesn’t talk to anyone that nicely, not even his own husband. It’s doubly insulting that Clint isn’t even looking at him, instead he’s smiling at the Binder man.

“Busy morning, huh?”

“Good morning Mr. Barton! How was your weekend?”

‘Mr. Barton’? Oh Jesus, this must be Tony’s new assistant. What an asskisser. Wade rolls his eyes and looks back down at his half done tie. 

“It was fine, do you want some help with those?” 

From the corner of his eye Wade watches Clint take most of the stack in one hand. 

“Oh! No, you don’t-” 

“It’s fine! And with this,” Clint kicks Wade’s ankle lightly. 

Wade squints and glares in response. Clint has that grin on his face that means he’s plotting. Dangerous.

“Wade meet Peter, he started while you were gone.”

Wade follows Clint’s gaze. The fluffy hair from earlier is accompanied by big soft brown eyes behind thick frames and pretty pink lips turned into a sincere smile. Fuck. Abort.  _ Abort _ . He was not prepared for this.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. Wilson! I hope you enjoyed your vacation.” 

There’s obviously something misfiring in Wade’s brain, because he swears everything that’s not Peter just fades to a sparkling pink background, complete with tiny floating hearts. A cold chill sweeps through him. Then Peter closes his eyes and smiles at Wade like he’s something important and the heat rushes all back to his face.

He’s definitely blushing like a school girl but he doesn’t have the brain power to care. There’s a slight tremble in his hand when he takes Peter’s to shake it.

“I- um, Thank you.” Wade stumbles around the words. 

“Is that what time it is?” Peter gasps, pulling his hand back to look at his watch. “Oh no!” In a quick movement he looks at what floor they’re on, slaps the corresponding button, and drops the rest of his binders on top of Clint’s stack. “Can you please put these on my desk? Thank you! It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Wilson.”

The doors slide open and Peter rushes out. Wade blinks after him until the elevator doors close again. 

Clint makes a fond noise, “man, he’s a great guy. I’m pretty sure he’s related to Pepper.”

Wade covers his face with his hands and takes a deep breath to try and recenter himself. He drags his hands back down, pulling skin with them.

“I’m having a midlife crisis.” He rasps in his deepest voice, turning to look at Clint with desperate eyes and his horror face. 

He drops his head in shame at the resulting 'I told you so’ laughter.


	2. Peter of Troy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second verse same as the first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than I expected. Hopefully I can get a steady posting schedule going. 
> 
> Clint thinks he knows mythology. 
> 
> Alt title: Dorks in Love
> 
> 😸😸😸

"Are you aware…” Wade starts as the door opens, using a single foot to spin his chair towards where Steve should be standing. ‘Should be’ because Wade has his tie across his eyes like a blindfold. “That your husband is being _nice_ to someone.”

“I see you're taking this well.” Steve’s voice grows louder as he walks to his desk.

Ugh. Wade can hear the compassion in his voice. Stupid boy scout. Wait-

“Taking _what_ well?” He asks with a scowl, pulling the tie from his eyes. The fabric bunches and sags around his nose, pulled by the weight of the giant  googly  eyes attached to it.

There’s a pause. Steve shrugs in an attempt at an apology. “I saw Clint in the hall.”

“He told you _nothing._  Nothing happened.” Shoving against the desk, Wade swivels his chair back around. The motion whipping the tie off of his face completely.

Traitors.  All of  his friends are traitors. Wade pouts at his computer screen, hen pecking in his password. Both of his hands tingle with an unpleasant numbness. Black and white TV static dancing across his nerves.

A heavy thunk almost has him turning around, but he resists. His toes crinkles at the sound of a tupperware opening and the most delicious smell fills the room. That _bastard_.

“I made you banana bread.”

“Don’t tempt me with your siren’s song.” 

“Do you want some help with your tie?” There's only fondness in Steve's voice.

Wade half spins around, giving him a sharp side eye. Stevehas his hands up in a show of surrender. The man exuding softness in a way that only Big Friendly Giants can.  With a dramatic sigh, Wade gets up and stands in front of Steve, looking more like an annoyed teenager in a suit than a grown adult at his job . Steve smiles at him regardless and starts to undo the knot at the end.

“This isn’t something unusual.” Steve says, thinking about each word he wants to say. Wade rolls his eyes but stands straighter after Steve pop his collar. “I mean, look at To- Did you staple these on? Why?” It should  probably  say something that Steve’s inflection doesn’t change. 

“I couldn’t find any glue.” Wade replies with a shrug. Steve shakes his head once, slinging the fabric back around Wade’s neck both eyes still attached.

“Look at Tony, he’s a walking example that it can happen to anyone.” He continues on like nothing. His fingers work fast, pulling and forcing the fabric into a suitable shape.

It makes Wade’s hands itch, his fingers flaring out against his will. There’s the subtle drop of Steve’s eyes, they snap back up to Wade’s. Two blue pools filled with an intimate understanding. His jaw clenches at the flare of shame that works through him.

It’s stupid. This is Steve, his friend. His friend who understands and doesn’t pity him.

“I read Ellie the BFG while we were on vacation.” Smooth transition, completely natural and inconspicuous. Good job Wade. 

“Isn’t she a little old for that?” Steve asks, his brows furrowing. He takes a step back, reaching back to  smooth out Wade’s finished tie.

"Maybe, but she asked and I’m not gonna say no.” He flops back into his chair, splaying out. “She brought that copy you made her.”

“She still has that? I miss her.” Steve leans against the corner of Clint’s desk, crossing his arms over his chest. The cheeriness of his expression rolls off of him in thick infectious waves. “You need to bring her around more.”

“She feels the same way Runt. Complained for a solid hour about it.”

Echoing from the hallway is the sound of Tony yelling, both men turn to watch through the large windows.

Tony tears into who’s ever on the other end of his cell phone. He comes to a stop two thirds of the way past the windows. Peter stands a few feet behind him, scribbling notes into a small leather notebook.

Tony rips his phone from his face, throws it high into the air and storms off towards his office. A look of utter panic crosses Peter’s face. He jumps, scrambling to catch the phone before it hits the ground.

The phone bounces out of his hands once, leaving him flailing to get a better hold. His shoulders visible drop in relief once he’s got it in his hands.

“Nice catch.” Steve says with a nod.

At the same time, as if he could hear him, Peter looks up. He beams at the two of them and waves. Wade’s mouth goes dry. He swallows hard, causing Steve to give him a knowing look. Stupid observant bastard.

Peter’s head swivels to the side. His mouth presses into the cutest little pout as he thinks before saying something they can’t hear. He glances down, flipping his notebook to the back. He scrawls something.

Holding it up with two hands, he  proudly  displays a: “I like your tie!” complete with a tiny smiley face drawn in the point of the exclamation mark. It's too cute. Wade can feel his brain going into nuclear meltdown.

“Peter!” Tony’s voice booms, making the three of them jump.

Peter slams the book closed and goes running for the needy CEO in his office.  Not long after Clint slides by with his back against the windows, looking over his shoulder with caution.

“Tony’s on the warpath.” He sings, flicking the lock on the door. “Better hope he doesn’t need you.”

Wade hums his agreement, the sound an octave higher than normal. Two sets of blue eyes zero in on him. One set understanding, the other filled with a wicked glee.

“What was that Wade?” Clint stalks closer to him with a grin to match his eyes. “Hey, I saw Peter over here. What was that all about?”

“Be nice, Clint.” Steve says with a small frown. 

“When am I not nice?” Clint’s smile turns sharper around the edges, looking back at Wade. “But I’m nowhere _near_ as nice as _Peter_.”

Wade’s eyes narrow, he snatches a water bottle from his desk and throws it. Clint crackles, flinching as the bottle bounces off his shoulder. Wade continues to grab whatever he can off of his desk and throw it.  Pens, binder clips, a small unicorn figurine, and paper clips all pelt Clint with various levels of intensity .

 

xxxxxxxx

 

At twelve on the dot, Clint stands in front of Wade's desk, smashing both of his hands against it. Wade takes his time looking away from the very important meme he's emailing. 

“Where are we going to lunch.” He demands. A groan tears from his throat at Wade’s answering shrug. He slams his fist against the desk and points to Steve. “Rogers, you coming?”

Steve looks up from his drawing, he stretches those  impossibly  wide shoulder out and shakes his head . “Can't. I'm in meetings with Bruce for the next two hours.”

“Gross. Your life sucks.” Clint's attention turns back to Wade. “We're getting Thai, let's go.”

It’s the way that Clint’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, that has Wade wondering if there’s something he might be trying to avoid  .  He’s  barely  out the door, both of Clint's hands pressing into his back rushing him along, when the pieces click into place .

Bumping into Natasha also helps speed things along.  She places two  perfectly   manicured hands against Wade's shoulders steadying and moving him out of the way .

“So nice to see you Wilson. How was your vacation? Wonderful, glad you're back.” She speaks with no emotion like she’s ticking boxes off of a list. With Wade where she wants him, she zeros in like a hawk on Clint. Her hands busy themselves adjusting his tie. “Off to lunch Barton? Don’t forget we have a 2 O’Clock meeting today.” She pulls the tie tight, making Clint choke in surprise. “You will be back by 1:30. I will have a new shirt clean and pressed waiting in your office. You will keep it spotless.” Natasha let’s go and gives him a sweet smile. “See you when you get back. Have a good lunch.”

Clint coughs a few times, loosening his tie. Natasha pats his chest and walks off towards her office.

“Damn it,” Clint groans, leaning against the wall once their  safely  in the elevator. “I hoped to avoid her.” 

“Can't escape the unavoidable. You made your bed, now eat it.” Wade digs his fingers into his shoulder, trying to work some life back into his aching arms. The static burns like fire, dissipating with each press but flaring back to life instantly. With his own groan of defeat, he digs his pill bottle out of his pocket.

“You up for a walk today? We can stay in.”

“M’fine.” He answers, swallowing a small green pill dry. It’s as chalky and bitter as ever. Wade sticks his tongue out, pulling another face. “Yuch, they look so much like candy.” 

“That’s a new color.” Clint hums, setting his chin on Wade’s shoulder.

“Yeah. I asked if it came in flamingo pink and they were very rude with their no.”

“Well, they can’t all be pink.”

Wade scoffs, knocking Clint’s head off his arm.  The little pill already working it’s magic, turning the painful tingling into a more bearable numbness  . “I think  I have the right to want all my medicine to be pink.”

“It is an admirable goal,” Clint concedes as the doors to the elevator open.

The lobby bustles with life, twice as busy as it is in the mornings.  Through the crowd Wade spots a tall, handsome, officer in his dress blues, hat tucked under his arm, looking down at his phone . He elbows Clint and nods his head towards the man.

“Who’s that?” The words are  barely  out of Wade’s mouth before they’re watching Peter jog up to the man, all smiles and sunshine. The man returns the look, one of his hands settling in the middle of Peter’s back.

Wade’s lips press into a tight frown as he watches them leave. Okay, the cute assistant _is_ gay but he’s got a boyfriend. Not super surprising. And Wade’s twice his age, so there’s not a reason he should think they would ever happen.

“Is this jealousy I sense?”

“I  barely  know him, and what are we twelve? Jesus.” Wade rolls his eyes, pushing the double doors open to the blinding sun. “You’re as bad as Ellie.” 

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave it alone.” Clint laughs. A nearby car blares on it’s horn. He flinches, reaching up to turn down his hearing aids. Wade moves to try and be a barrier between him and the street. “You  just  make it too easy.”

Wade grins, leaning closer. “Title of your sex tape." 

“What are we twelve?” Clint parrots in a rude imitation of Wade. His voice breaks with a laugh on the last word. They laugh and joke the rest of the way to the restaurant.

“He's  just  so cute.”  Wade groans over his tea, circling back around to their original conversation now that it’s quieter. “It catches me off guard, every time.   Honestly, it should be illegal.”

Clint snorts so loudly a few people at nearby tables look over. He covers his mouth with one hand and has a fake coughing fit. One of his eyes cracks open, peering up at Wade. Wade rolls his eyes but can’t help his smile.

Clint stops and clears his throat a few times, sitting up straighter. “Steve said the exact same thing on his first day.” A thoughtful look crosses his face. “I need to get more data from Bucky, but  we might  have a gay Helen of Troy thing here.”

There’s a full minute of silence where they  just  look at one another.

“Who am I in this situation?”

“Paris.” Clint answers with no hesitation. His eyes and nose scrunch as he thinks. “He’s the one who ‘kidnapped’ her right?”

“Wasn’t he her original husband?” Wade pushes at his curry, far more interested in Clint being weirder than him. 

“No. His name starts with an M... maybe  an N. Wait!”  His chopsticks clatter to the bowl as his expression morphs from surprise to excitement . “Does this mean I get to be Achilles?”

“I’m not sure where you were going with this analogy but sure.”

“Yes! I’m invincible.”

Clint’s phone vibrates to life, buzzing in time with a flashing red led. Horror crosses his face.

“Oh crap, we gotta go.” Clint grabs his bowl, pouring the noodles down his throat.

Wade takes the hint, spooning several large bites into his mouth before letting himself get pulled away.

“I hate Mondays.” Clint whines when they’re back on the street.

“Well Garfield, don’t schedule all your meetings on Monday then.”

Wade  barely  gets his hand up in time to block the responding punch to the arm.

With Clint setting the pace, and Wade’s legs still having feeling, it takes them no time at all to get back to the office. Clint keeps  compulsively  checking his watch, prompting Wade to glance at his own. 1:35. He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing at the schadenfreude. Clint picks up on it and glares from the corner of his eye.

In similar fashion to this morning,  just  as the elevator doors start to close, they jerk back open to let Peter rush on.

“Thank you Mr. Barnes, but I could have waited."

Bucky gives a half-assed wave in response.  Unlike this morning, after flashing them both a quick smile, he tucks himself into a corner and focuses on his phone .

“Oh hey, you said I was  _right_  earlier.” Clint starts as the doors slide shut, “what about?”

“Fuck. Fine, you were right.” Wade shoves his hands in his pockets, “Ellie wanted to talk.”

“About what?” Clint prods, sliding his foot into Wade’s.

“About…” Wade spares a glance back at Peter, who is so absorbed in his phone it doesn’t look like he’d notice a bomb. Thank god for technology.  “She said she’s not sure if she’s straight and some of her friends are starting to- I don’t remember how she said it, uh- question their genders ?”

“Did you tell her about the you thing?”

“What me thing?” It’s hard to keep the offense out of his voice.

“The you gay thing.” Sometimes the bluntness of the way Clint says things  just  astounds Wade into loving him more.

“I’m not gay. I’m bi,  I think. There are so many new terms now.” Wade whines, starting to pout. “And of course she wanted to do this smack dab in the middle of bumfucknowhereville, so I didn’t even have google.”

“Elaborate.”

“So, one of her friends is something. Ellie said that they don’t want to be either gender. Or that they’re both gender? It was a computer term.”

“Non-binary?"

Clint and Wade jump. Wade had forgotten that Peter was even there. Big doe eyes peek up at him, where he’s just barely glanced up from his phone.

His cheeks start to turn the cutest shade of pink. “Um, I’m sorry for eavesdropping. But was that the word? Non-binary?”

“Yeah,  I think  that was it.” Now that’s burned into his brain forever. Won’t Ellie be so proud. Wade can’t help but grin. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing.” Peter glances back down at his phone.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty cute, Peter. What’s his rank?”

Clint’s question has Peter raising his head  entirely  this time. His brows knitting together, before shooting up. The color on his cheeks darkens but he smiles through it.

“That’s Flash. He’s not my boyfriend.” Peter laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not sure what he does.”

There’s a ding and the elevator doors slide open. Natasha stands blocking their path, arms crossed under her bust. Her expression is unreadable, but her attention is  unmistakably  on Clint.

“You’re late.” She turns and walks down the hall. Clint follows hot on her heels, stringing together an attempt at a grand excuse.

Wade can feel Peter shiver behind him, much closer than before. He glances over his shoulder to see the small brunet hiding behind him.

“She’s terrifying.” His eyes glance up and meet Wade’s. “Sorry, you were the tallest object I could hide behind.”

“You say sorry too much.” The hamster running in Wade’s brain decides that now is the best time to take a break, leaving his autopilot to say that.

Peter steps out from behind him, straightening out his clothes.

“You’re a good dad by the way.” He doesn’t look up from where he’s tucking his shirt back in. “If you want you can text me.” His face flares bright red. “Questions, I mean. _Questions_. About LGBTQ stuff. My number should be in your email.” He speaks in a rush,  barely  finishing before he’s speed walking down the hallway.

Peter  nearly  bowls into Pietro as he’s coming out of an office.

“Excuse me, Mr. Maximoff!” Peter’s says, an octave too loud and a touch too  aggressively , throwing himself into Tony’s office.

Pietro looks at Wade and gestures to where Peter  just  was. “And what the fuck was that?”

Wade shrugs, trying to squash down the hope in his stomach. “Kids are weird these days.” 


	3. The Curious Case of the Boy in Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lemon Wasabi Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8 minutes to spare! I forgot we had a tournament at work today so this ~~will have to be edited later  
>  Enjoy this raw formation of my very tired thoughts~~
> 
>  
> 
> I'm sorry the formatting is weird, ao3 and my phone are not in agreement
> 
> Btw has anyone actually eaten wasabi candy?? Is that a legit thing??

 

By Friday, Wade’s got a solid plan to deal with Public Enemy #1: Peter Parker. He’s feeling very proud of himself. Not to mention Ellie texted him a picture of a unicorn wielding two machine guns this morning. He’s not sure what it meant but at least she was thinking about him. He laughs remembering it.

“You’re in a good mood.” Steve yawns. He watches Wade with suspicious sleepy eyes.  “It’s weird you’re even here this early.”

“I have a busy day,” Wade says with an air of self-important nonchalance. “And of course I’m in a good mood, Flag-Britches.”

“I wore flag swim trunks once!”

“That’s all it takes my American friend. As I was saying, of course I’m in a good mood. I can feel my fingers, I’m finally sure my neighbor isn’t a vampire, and I have a master plan to deal with problemo numero uno.” Wade slides his hands behind his head and leans back. 

“A plan to deal with your neighbor?” 

“I just said she’s not a vampire.” Wade rolls his eyes. “No, to deal with Peter.” 

Steve sets his elbow on his desk and rests his chin on his fist. “I’m guessing this doesn’t involve you talking about and understanding your feelings on the issue.”

“Obviously not.” Wade pretends not to hear Steve’s sigh as he hauls a bag out from one of his desk drawers. “Do you know what these are?”

Steve shakes his head and turns towards his computer. “Not a bag of lime flavored hard candy?”

Wade makes a buzzer sound but stops in the middle. “No wait, you’re right. This  _ is not _ a bag of lime candy. It’s wasabi.”

“Oh dear god why?” The disgust on Steve’s face is clear as he thinks about it.

“Don’t tell Clint, I want him to eat one. But! I have them because, every time I see Peter, I’m gonna eat one. Soon enough I’ll associate him with the grossness of the candy and boom problem solved.”

“Or,” Steve counters, looking back at Wade, “you might start to like the candy because you like Peter and have a crush on him.”

“Ew. Don’t say crush. I’m an adult.”

“Act like one then.”

“Never!” Wade drops the candy in his lap so he can grab the edge of the desk desk and shake it for extra dramatic flare. 

“Have you gu-” Clint bursts through the door, startling Wade who shoves his desk so hard half the objects fly to the floor. “What’cha doin’?”

“Nothin’… eat this.” Wade throws one of the green wrappers to Clint, before sliding off his chair to pick up his things.

“Ooh candy! Have you guys seen Peter yet?” There’s the crinkling of plastic as Clint works to tear it open.

“Not yet, no.” Steve answers. “Why?”

“Oh ho ho, just you wait.” The smugness rolling off of Clint is thick enough to make Wade want to gag. He pops the small candy into his mouth. “I’m not even gay and I think he’s something special.”

Wade watches Clint’s face as it twists from prideful to confusion to abject horror. He throws himself over his desk, his arm nearly taking out his monitor, to spit the candy in the trash can next to his chair.

Wade falls over with laughter at the scene. 

“What did you  _ do _ to it?” He gasps raggidly. “You  _ poisoned _ it! Didn’t you!”

Wade’s laughing too hard to answer. Whenever he starts to calm down, he opens his eyes to see Clint again and starts all over again.

“I can’t believe you, I thought you were my friend. And you’d give me poison candy?” Clint laments, reaching a hand out weakly to Steve from where he’s still sprawled across his desk. “Tell my wife...I love her.”  

“Alright, when you get one I’ll do that.” Steve doesn’t even look up from his work, already headed to his quiet place that he uses to ignore the two of them when they get like this.

“Wilson, I need to-” Tony pushes his way into the office, only starting to look up from his tablet. He freezes, “What is going on?” 

Wade and Clint share a look of panic, trying to telepathically think of a lie.

“Wait.” Tony stops, looking back down at his tablet, “don’t, I don’t care.” He corrects. “Wilson, I can’t make those presentation meetings today.”

Wade sits up on his knees. “What?” He whines, “I really need them done.”

Tony holds up a hand. “I’m not finished.  _ I _ can’t make them. Peter’s going to sit in with you and take notes for me to review.” 

At the mention of his name, Peter pops out from behind Tony’s back and waves. Tony heads out of the office, already onto his next task, yelling for Pepper. With him out of the way, Wade can finally appreciate the warning Clint gave earlier. Peter’s wearing a fashion button down. A  _ lemon yellow _ button down. That shouldn’t work on anyone.

From the corner of his eye Wade can see the pink settling on Steve’s cheeks, giving him a sweet farm-boy from Kansas look. Good, he’s not the only one who can’t handle the cuteness overload. It feels good to be apart of a crowd.

“I have the files and the meeting room all set up for us, Mr. Wilson. The first person should arrive in 45 minutes. Is there anything else you need me to prepare, sir?” That pesky pink background is back again, this time with tiny rays of light shining off of the smiling, always smiling, Peter.

Wade bites down on his tongue and shakes his head. The rough taste of copper fills his mouth. 

“Alrightie, let me know if anything pops up. I’ll see you downstairs.”

Wade can suddenly appreciate a whole new side of Peter as he walks away. His slacks are so tight Wade can see every curve of his now very apparent bubble butt. How is he just now noticing this gift from the gods? 

Nope! Wade jumps up, dumping his stuff back on his desk. He shoves five of the candies in his mouth. At first it’s not so bad, they taste a little strange but not  _ bad _ . The burn sets in after, flowing into his bloodstream through the open wound on his tongue. For a second he’s sure he’s about to be sick. He pounds his fists against his desk, taking a deep breath. The air feels like ice, making the burn greater, but the sickness passes.

It’s impossible not to be happy about these results, amidst the pain. These are not a candy he could ever get used to. 

He turns to Clint with a desperate gaze. It’s returned with a strange look, Clint's mouth open slightly, top lip pulling up and his nose wrinkling.

“Ah neeb heelb.” Wade garbles out.

“How are you eating those?!” Clint’s voice squeaks with distress. “Oh my god, you’re gonna die!”

 

-

 

Wade chugs his water, hoping to put out the wildfire of his throat.

“I’m sorry, man. I can’t.” Clint shrugs.

“Traitor!” Wade rasps, sounding like a fish out of water. “I can’t do this alone!”

“What happened to your ‘fool-proof’ plan?”

“No one asked you, Rogers!” Wade throws his empty water bottle at Steve. Steve bats it away without looking. “Go eat a rock!”

“It’ll be fine.” Clint assures, moving to block Wade's line of sight. “These don’t take very long. How many people are you seeing? Like three?”

Wade covers his face with his hands, muffling his groan. “Twelve. This is going to take all day. All day. I’ve been putting this off for weeks because of fucking Tony! Stupid flaky bastard.”

Clint hums. “Well, I guess you’re fucked then. Take a bunch of those candies.”

“Do not eat any more of those.” Steve chides. “They can’t be good for you.”

Wade sticks his tongue out. “I’m taking the entire bag. Try and stop me, mom.”

Steve slams his hands on the desk, standing to his full height. “If by force, I must.”

Wade screams. He sinks in his chair clenching the bag to his chest. “Uncle. Uncle, I concede!”

 

xxxxxxx

 

Wade sits in the meeting room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His feet tap a sporadic beat. Across from him is Peter, looking sinfully innocent as he pours over the file in front of him. He’s rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. That dumb shirt of his has the top button undone, teasing Wade the hint of a creamy pale chest. Now that he’s closer too, he can see that the fabric of the shirt is multiple sheer layers stacked on top of one another. Who makes these clothes?

But Wade’s not watching and absorbing every detail like a stalker sponge. No, he’s also preparing to listen to this presentation on… His eyes flit down to the top of Peter’s file-

ARC BEE-ACTOR

The pun is a nice touch, but it doesn’t settle his nerves. He’s about to shake out of his skin.

A small tone sounds from Peter’s watch. He taps the face out if and pulls out two notebooks. One with lined paper, the other blank.

He reaches up to stretch, baring the smooth collum of his neck, looking so clean and biteable. He sighs in content, relaxing and catching Wade’s eyes.

At that fuzzy warm feeling spreading out from his gut again, Wade digs into his pocket and pulls out a secret candy. Hubris fills him as he pops it into his mouth. It may not be the entire bag but he's got at least one for every person they're seeing..

The awfulness of it, much more bearable with only one, works in pulling Wade out of his love-sick state of mind.

“Up first is Miss Murphy with the Arc Bee-actor.” The formalness around Pete drops, leaving him open completely. “Five stars for that name, right?”

Wade nods, not trusting the way his tongue is trying to tie itself into a knot. His self control stretching thin at the idea of an invitation to know one another. Peter smile stretches a little bigger, unquestionably fake. The first fake smile he's seen.

“They’re tiny bee-shaped drones, fit in the palm of your hand. Super cute. They run off of Arc batteries, but what’s the market for them?” Peter continues on. Casual and confident in every way except for how his shoulders are tight and high. How straight his back is. A contrast to his still open posture. An open book with coded pages.

Wade's been staring for too long. Fuck, he wasn't listening. He shrugs hoping it's acceptable.

Peter’s lips pull into a tight line. Wrong reaction, shit. He robotically crosses his legs and presses a button on the phone next to him. “Miss Murphy please.”

A pretty woman scrambles in, looking like she’s trying a bit too hard to be “quirky” in Wade’s opinion. The black and yellow hexagon on her skirt are a nice touch to the whole bee thing.  

“Good Morning!” Peter says, back to all sunshine. The woman’s eyes dart between the he and Wade. “I’m Peter, I’ll be standing in for Mr. Stark today. Mr. Wilson and I are very interested in seeing your product.”

“Hi! Ok, thank you very much.” She squeaks, rushing to set up her presentation, clearly much more relaxed than before.

From the corner of his eyes Wade watches Peter. He smiles fondly at the woman, glancing between her and where he’s making notes. What could he be writing already? His arm blocks the papers, stopping Wade from getting a good look.

Wade tears a corner of his own note paper. He draws a crude bee with a crown on its head, under it he writes Ms. Murphy. When her back is turned he pushes it across the table to Peter.

Peter pulls it closer, not looking away from his writing. When his eyes shift to it, he lets out a small snort. He coughs a few times to cover it, slipping the paper under the stack of folders.

He looks like he’s trying not to smile when Wade catches his eyes. He mouths the word ‘no’, shaking his head. Wade looks away, to collect himself for a second. Peter’s back to writing whatever when he looks back up.

Right. Focus.

Wade takes a deep breath, grabbing his own file. He’s here to do a job. Miss Murphy looks like she’s all set up. He grins at her. Her entire body tightens, like an animal preparing to run.

“Alright. Time for maximum effort, when you are ready.”

Bright green eyes blink at him for a second, before sliding to Peter. He nods once and she relaxes.

 

-

 

Surprisingly, Clint was right again, not that he's ever allowed to know that. The presentations don’t seem to take very long. Wade and Peter seem to be on a similar wavelength, half the time Peter asking questions before he can get them out. It’s so easy and comfortable he forgets all about the candy, actually focusing on his job for once. He even got Peter to laugh a couple of times and isn't that something?   
  
Their sixth presentation of the day, Mr. Blackhammer and his Octo-Minder, has just left. And he left Wade feeling disappointed, how could such a cool name go to such a lame person. The guy couldn’t even figure out his own thoughts.   
  
“That’s a man chasing after his own head if I’ve ever seen one.” Wade says after the door closes. That gets him a soft laugh, once and quiet like all the others. Just enough to make his stomach lurch. “So who’s next?”   
  
Peter looks up, peeking above his frames. “Our next presenter is a twenty minute break.”    
  
They stare at one another for a few seconds. Peter lifts his head up to look at Wade properly.   
  
“We’ve been here for two hours.” He explains slowly. Wade’s brain is still caught up in work mode, leaving him to blink back. “If I don’t get coffee, I will not survive.”   
  
“Coffee.” Wade parrots, shaking his head to clear out the meeting fog. “Yeah coffee.”   
  
“There we go,” Peter smiles, lacing his fingers together and cradling his chin on them. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Mr. Wilson.”   
  
Every part of his body is stiff. Wade makes a garbled noise, stretching back in his chair. Only a little too far. His arms fly out, pinwheeling in an attempt to over balance the chair the right direction. Somehow that works, allowing him to get all six wheels back on the ground where they belong.    
  
Peter coughs a few times, failing to cover up his laughter. Wade can see him, gnawing on the inside of his cheek, physically biting back a comment.   
  
“Make the joke.” He pouts. “I know I would.”    
  
Peter shakes his head, sweeping fluffy bangs into his eyes. “It’s inappropriate for work.”   
  
Wade drapes himself onto the table, and does ‘gimmie’ hands. “Now I have to know. Don’t be holding out on me.”   
  
He laughs, flushing a little, the red stains the part of his chest that Wade can see.    
  
“I’m going to get us coffee. I’ll be back in few.” Peter deflects.   
  
Wade blocks his path past with an arm. “Hold your horses, you aren’t paying for me.” He digs his wallet out of his pocket.    
  
“It’s fi-”   
  
“Zip it.” Wade holds a credit card up, using it to shush Peter. “I’ve got yours too.”   
  
“You don-” Peter continues to try and argue.   
  
“Bup. I said zip it.” Wade interrupts again. He forces the card into Peter’s hands. “And, since you decided to be a sassypants, now I’m buyin’ your lunch too.”   
  
Peter begins to sputter out the start of several different excuses, but Wade keeps tutting. Eventually Peter gives up, sighing his thanks out the door.   
  
Wade kicks his feet onto the table and grabs his phone. Missed notifications fill his screen, mildly important emails and a missed text from Clint.   
  
Clit Farton:  _ u dead yet _   
  
He grins as he types his reply.   
  
World Wide Web:  _ Nah son _ _  
_ _ im KILLIN it _

_ Made of gold like mothafuckin Midas _   
  
Wade clicks away from chat, noticing an unread text from Vanessa. The preview doesn’t show anything, probably a picture. He’s about to tap on it, when the phone buzzes in his hand.   
  
Clit Farton:  _ he wasnt made of gold everything he touch turns to gold _   
_ but 4 cereal whats going ooooon _ __  
_  
_ World Wide Web:  __ im amazing like usu

_ gettin cute guys laughin and ladies swoonin _ __  
_ makin decisions left and right, closin deals like a boss _   
  
Clit Farton:  _ did u do the shark smile _ __  
_ pls dont do the shark smile _ __  
__  
World Wide Web:  _ Whatcha talkin bout Willis _   
  
Clit Farton:  _ Dont u mean aboot lol _ __  
_ when u get super serious u look like a shark _ __  
__  
World Wide Web:  _ Imma supa saiyan bitch not a shark _   
  
As soon as his thumb hits the send button, the door swings open a little. Peter slides in, carrying a coffee tray, a brown paper bag balanced on top. All Wade pays attention to is the brightly colored sugar-coma with whipped cream.    
  
He opens his mouth, ready to sing his praises to the heavens, when he notices Peter’s phone caught between his shoulder and his ear. It looks like he’s listening intently.   
  
He sets the tray in front of Wade, dropping the bag into his lap. From the phone he can hear someone talking.   
  
“Yes, hi.” Peter pulls away from him, focusing on the call. “I’m Peter Parker and I was told you can-” His head swivels, wide eyes glancing at Wade. “Uhh… just a second.” He pulls the phone away from his face. “I’ll be right back. Okay?”   
  
Wade nods for the lack of anything else to do. It’s not like saying ‘no’ is an option. Peter scurries off without hesitation.   
  
“Could you please explain what's going on with account…” His voice gets more muffled as the doors slide shut. That doesn’t sound like a fun phone-call.   
  
_ Isn’t she lovely _ , Stevie Wonder croons from his hand.  _ Isn’t she wonderful? _   
  
Ellie’s beautiful face fills the screen. It's from her 8th grade graduation, which Wade did  _ not _ sob like a baby at.  __ Isn’t she precious? This is a fun phone-call.   
  
Wade answer the call with a smile. “Ellie-Bellie!”   
  
Papa!”    
  
“What’s up, gorgeous? I was just thinking about you.”   
  
“I’m at lunch. What are you doing?”   
  
“Are you supposed to be on your phone at school?” He puts on his best ‘dad’  voice.   
  
“Well,” she hums, dragging the word out, “technically the rules only say no phones in the classroom.”   
  
Wade barks out a laugh. “That’s my girl! Any reason for the call? Do you want to talk?”   
  
“Not exactly,” She says after a pause.   
  
“Are you okay?” Wade straightens up at the touch of distress in her voice. “Do you need me to come get you?”   
  
“I’m fine, papa!” She giggles. “It’s- some of my friends are having a sleepover this weekend and I really wanna go.”   
  
“What did mom say?” Wade asks automatically, he learned the hard way that it’s the best question to start with.    
  
“That I have to ask you cause it’s your weekend.”   
  
Wade turns his head at the sound of the door opening. Peter walks back in, head down furiously texting. He turns back around and snorts into the phone, “Of course you can go honey-bunches. We just spent a week together in the woods, we can spend one teeny weekend apart.”   
  
“Thank you papa!”   
  
“You’re welcome.” He says, warmth blossoming in his chest at the sound of her excitement. “I love you, Ellie.”   
  
“I love you too! I have to go but thanks again!”   
  
“Have a good day at school sweetheart.”   
  
His cheeks hurt from smiling. It always makes his day better talking to her. There’s a crinkling in his lap, bringing his attention to the bag that had been dropped there earlier.    
  
Wade’s stomach growls. Time for his own lunch. Digging around in it, he pulls out a plastic container and a wrapped sandwich, his credit card between them. The container’s big green label has KOSHER written in big bold letters.   
  
He peeks at the coffee tray, on the other side of his sugar delight he spots another green sticker on the coffee. A nice answer to his question. He looks up at Peter.   
  
He’s still on his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. His eyes are red and it’s obvious he’s recently tried to scrub tears from his cheeks. Wade wants to ask, wants to make it better.    
  
His thighs tense as he holds himself back from actually getting up. Instead he slides over the container and the coffee.    
  
Peter’s eyes flit over to them. “Thanks.” There’s a small warble in his voice.       
  
“What is it?” Wade asks, trying to ignore the sound of his heart breaking, tapping the green label on the lid. Distractions. He’s great at these.   
  
Peter sniffs, furrowing his eyebrows, “chicken salad?” He asks, not sure of the question. “It’s got cranberries and almonds. Do you want some?” He doesn’t sound as distraught anymore.    
  
“No, thank you.” Wade answers quickly, watching Peter start to open it. “But I meant the sticker. Why’s it on your coffee?”   
  
“Oh. Duh.” Peter rolls his eyes at himself. “I can’t consume meat and dairy together.” There’s a beat. “Well, I can, there’s nothing physically stopping me, I’m just not.”   
  
Wade nods along. “Another black coffee man, I see.”   
  
Peter sticks his tongue out in a motion of disgust. “Too bitter. Chai latte with rice milk.”   
  
A light bulb goes off in his head, “hey. How’d you know my drink order?”   
  
“I asked Mr. Barton the other day. That was the closest thing I could find to ‘sparkle fairy vomit’.”   
  
“He’s mad because he has no taste.”   
  
Peter smiles down at the table. Wade’s stomach growls again, informing him of its intentions to stage a revolution if food is not gifted soon.

-

Though quieter, the rest of the presentations fly by. Even their after talks and parsing seems to take a fraction of the time they do. The two of them finally leaving the meeting room around 4:30.

Wade yawns, stretching his arms high over his head, standing next to him Peter’s still writing away on one of the files.

“Well, that could have been way worse.” He starts as an ice breaker. Peter hums his acknowledgement, not pausing his work. Ouch, time for plan B. “How’d you like your first all-day meeting?” He tries again.

The corners of Peter’s mouth twitch up into a small smile. “Just like you said, Mr. Wilson. It could have been way worse.”

“You can call me Wade y’know?” He snorts. “M’not Tony.”

Peter’s pen scratches to a stop, he snaps the folder closed and turns to look up at Wade. “Mr. Wilson, I don’t want you get get the wrong idea. I prefer to keep my work and personal lives separate.” He holds the two notebooks up to him. “I made copies of my notes as well as some rough schematics on how each one might practically be made for you to look over and consider.” 

Wade takes them dumbly. 

“Have a wonderful weekend, sir. I’ll see you on Monday.” Peter turns and walks off down the hall.

-

Wade’s sits alone at his desk, head propped up on his fist, replaying the situation over and over in his head. Ideally, this is a good thing. In fact this was what he wanted. Exactly. Why does he feel like a hot summer dumpster fire? 

It’s gotta be all those wasabi candies. He tries to reason with himself. It fails immediately, there's no question in what this ache in his chest is anything but disappointment. There’s no point in pretending, it won't help the situation.

“Maximum effort…” Wade digs his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number without looking. It rings only twice before-

“It's not even six yet. Is everything alright?” A smooth British voice answers.

“Yeah ‘course.” Wade answers instinctively, he winces. “Sorry, no actually. Can I come by?”

“Of course. I’ll see you at eight.” Xavier confirms, clicking the phone off.


	4. A NOTE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a note

Hiatus notice

So first and foremost I want to apologize for seemingly abandoning this. I promise I haven’t, I still have all my notes and future chapters planned. While in the middle of writing this I fell into a very dark place and am working on getting myself out of it. Unfortunately whenever I try to work on this it stirs those feelings back up for now. So until I’m better, this is on hold. 

Thanks for reading stay wonderful,

SimpleSpider (Noah)

P.S. I’m trying to get back into the habit of writing so hopefully I’ll have some new stuff up. <3


End file.
